Cold fangs crept through every corner from house to alley. A wind that didn't feel like wind, but like a foul creature who seeks even the most innocent to be devoured: its grasp would never back down. No more light, no more respect and stability was left, for a darkness swept through each corner where life still dwelt within that miserable icy abyss. The storms continued to grow stronger, and with its frozen teeth piercing the flesh of so many things, one would think peace is its next priority. However, like Almar, peace might as well be a memory of the past no longer to be seen again...

"Keep ye hood on, ye nob! Ye look like floppin' fish." Steffen demanded.

"You don't understand how hard it is when winds are blowing it down every two seconds!" Sven remarked in disgust.

"Then walk backwards!"

Voices from shopkeepers were heard in the background, a crowd gathered together in the streets with an old man at the pinnacle.

"Bandits, thieves, sea raiders, traitors!"

A crowd cheered as they took their fill, a strong sweet scent filled in their breath, yet fowl. It was rum. The crowd laughed with joy.

"We return with drinks for all!"

The crowd continued its roaring, all in line to take their fill.

"Up with yur blades! Strike yur pen! We promise wealth to all who join the cause!" Whoever was speaking was losing their voice, having spoken so loudly in the cold that morning. "We will get vengeance against the blasted Lorlynians. With Almar by our side, we can rule every nation we see fit!"

Sven looked at the man shouting to the crowd.

"What's that about?" He asked.

"For a poet I expect it'd be clear to ye," Steffen turned to him, a disappointed look on his already tired face, signaling his head with a swing, "come along."

They went back to the house Steffen brought him to in the first place. He began to cook, putting coals in the fire pit and smashing flint and steel together to cause sparks.

Sven could smell the fresh scent of a warm and delicious meal from fifteen feet away: the pot had already begun to boil.

"Even in this hell island, you still manage to get a smile on my face by your cooking."

Steffen looked at him with a raised eyebrow, an irritated sigh.

"I took ye in because I see a purpose in ye. Me friend died for that purpose; and now from day one, bringing ye in, all you dae is complain!" He dropped the stirrer. "I may be a cook, but I an't lettin' you stay and gain nothin'!"

"Alright! Alright! You must be related to Theodren. You really do have a short temper, don't you?" Sven threw up his hands as though to question Steffen's rant, appearing like firmly placing one's hands on a wall.

"Been here for twenty two years, little man. It'll catch up to ye long before this war ends, before you end it." He began stirring again, taken a deep breath to calm his nerves.

"Wait, what are you on about now? You think this flesh ridden corpse is capable of the unmistakable vileness of these people?"

"Ye got here so far." Steffen mumbled under his breath.

"I heard that!" Sven angered in disgust.

"Yur quite capable, little man." Steffen turned back to the stew and stirred the pot yet again.

"Wait.... You're saying I of all people.... Have a chance to change the course of this entire realm?"

Steffen left the spoon in the pot and fully took his gaze on Sven.

"I dae, believe it or not by how I anger over your nonsensical complaints, I dae, Sven...." Steffen left in between his gaze a long silence in their little talk. That silence left the room with nothing but the crackling sounds and bubbling of the fire and pot, with a slight nibble of the winds on the outside walls all around them. Steffen ran and gripped Sven's cold cheeks, and no, not the ones sitting on the chair, but it freaked Sven out nonetheless.

"I know what yur history is.... Ye ur the heir to the north, and ye ur its last hope."
_______________________________________

It was brighter than any moonlit night, but yet it seemed so eerie. It was as though it were a holy angel being consumed by demons. Only a few areas remained safe from Almar's wrath, or at least then. The constant screams of the unknown still stuck with them, the few that remained; whispering in their ears in every blink of an eye. The village candles faded. The moon set its mark upon the horizon, though shaded by clouds it seemed to be. Theodren: a smelly mad man basically galloping among the farms and orchards in the free lands; carried a torch as he crossed over freezing puddles presenting his face. As he stepped deeper into the mess he made, to see a reflection of his face was ignored entirely by his worries. Zoran was the only thing he could think about anymore.

"Ah...great...another fool gazed in something he can't grasp." Theodren overheard a voice in the nearest home. It was darkened by the intensity of the moonlit ground. He could just barely see a candle within the home.

"At least he's trying to reach for something. All you do is stay here day by day and bicker. You're no better than a man wearing nothing but a tunic. A man filled in every storehouse in his flesh with ale, who balances on a mountain's peak singing tavern tale songs about beheading dragons as hungry fire drakes fly, fully aware of what he's saying, all around him." A women's voice was muffled close to the other in the same room.

"Ack! Slanderous fiend! You cannot prove what cannot be seen." He sounded disturbed by her response, as if he turned his head and crossed his shoulders at that moment, for he couldn't decide how to reply without mumbling in his shirt.

Theodren became curious of them, and sneaked up beside the window knowing no one outside would know he was doing it.

"One mad man after another. It's a constant cycle of the same thing; what corrupted father into killing mother and leaving you half dead. There's a reason I try and avoid these people before giving them the chance to react." Footsteps were heard approaching the other on wooden floors. "To see the only thing I care about die is a greater pain than my own suffering."

His eyes went open, seeing those words stick in his mind made the reason for searching for what seemed to be a lost cause futile; but yet he shook his head, ignoring the very thought of giving in and abandoning why he went there in the first place.

"Hey, you there." The window crept open. The man had spotted Theodren. "Had you enough eavesdropping for the night?"

Theodren remained silent.

"Out with it! What do you want?" The man scolded, and Theodren stood up."Well?"

He didn't reply, and walked away as if nothing happened.

The woman came out the door, running after the wanderlust Theodren, grabbing his hand when he thought he was alone...to have tears in his eyes....

"I can't find him. No matter where I turn, he wasn't even there to begin with." He landed on his knees in the snow, steam coming from his mouth, a runny nose, but not from the cold air, though the woman thought. After years and years with not a single tear, for once his pride couldn't hold it back anymore.

She took his hand in grip, gently bringing him to her home: a warrior, helpless to even stop himself from being led by a stranger who wouldn't even persist, just gently lead.

She closed the door behind him. The warmth of the fire in the night sky melted the ice statue inside him, or at least for that moment.

"Thank you, miss?" He was puzzled, but inside very grateful.

"Selena." She gave a friendly smile. "And this fool over here is my brother, Erwin." She pointed to the right of her with her head in a rather careless manner.

The man roared in disgust, mumbling his way to the other room and shutting the door aggressively.

Selena held both of his hands close, looking directly at his face with a smile, as if the pain inside him was nothing.

"I know you're sad, stranger, and I know you seek someone you dearly care for, because Erwin had that same face when he searched for me."

"Then what do you plan on doing about it?" He forced his hands away from her, crossing his arms and turning his face towards the wall.

"It isn't my destiny, and searching for me wasn't Erwin's, either. There's a greater thing to be done, for all of us; and when you see it, you'll be too late." She released his arms from behind, slowly opening them and walking away from him.

His unpredictable breath of fire and stone was as silent as a deaf person speaking to a crowd while having a fear of public speaking.

"You can use our bath to clean yourself up. You smell like you just dived in the swamp surrounding the wall of the capital, stained in piss and-" He cut her off, grabbing her wrist to get her to stop talking. She sighed, grabbing a wet cloth with soap to keep her hands clean of his filth.

"Just leave, it's already set and warm." She looked to the door, only two doors being separate rooms, though, one to the left and right, as if others once lived in that home. "I'll just convince Erwin to let you take it from him, you need it more anyways, right?" She giggled a little and walked away.

He came out in the same ragged clothes since their departure in the Capitol. Selena waited patiently outside. 

"M...m-lady?" He looked at her awkwardly as she smiled back.

"It's nothing. You intrigue me, is all." She walked close to him. "Who are you?"

He pondered for a bit.

"Th-Theodren?"

"No no." She stopped his awkward resolution. "Your name doesn't shape who you are. You are what you make yourself out to be."

Theodren just stood there, like an armored giant being lectured by a child. Erwin overheard, but he argued in his mind over whether or not he should approach. Like an evil being to the left and a holy being to the right, there was a constant battle in his mind. He dragged himself back to bed in a rather growling sort of way.

"Listen." She said, grabbing his hand gently, smiling. "It's not just about helping others. You need to help yourself sometimes. You're alone, Theodren. Abandoning what you had can't be brought off easy."

Theodren stood up before she could finish talking, pushing his hand away from her in haste.

"What is it? What did I do wrong?" She spoke soft and sympathetically.

"I know exactly what you're trying to do! You're trying to set me up so I can get captured again! You want me to think I'm safe here, but you'll turn me in before I even see it coming!" He spoke down to her; like a lunatic, his voice vibrated in a constantly unstable persona. "Well, you're wrong!"

Erwin got back out of bed, stomping, shaking the floor boards with a stubborn growl as he banged the door with his foot which somehow surprisingly didn't break into pieces by how hard he kicked it. He had a broom in hand, ready to knock out Theodren with as much merciless character as a hungry bear.

"I thought so." Theodren gripped his shaking fist.

The wooden floor boards squeaked and the door to the outside was thrown open. He rushed out; running relentlessly and wouldn't look back, despite her welcoming but worrying calls.

"As I said before, Selena. Just because you have faith that you'll help a stranger; this is going to happen. I don't care if you want to be an angel, you're going to die too young, and all that I did to bring you back will be pointless." Erwin spoke softly. He walked slowly back to the bed as she continued looking into the moonlit night unknowing where he went.

"It's cold, Selena. Your life isn't meant to be taken away in the gaze of a winter night." He shut the room door gently behind him.

She desperately wanted to reply in frustration over what her brother did, but what's to gain when he's already gone?

Her eyes kept gazing, the steam rising from her face into the wondrous view of star and moon reflecting off the snow and ice of the ground, dimly lighting it. Her brown hair and pale skin were like clear waters and rested mud by the light plot those same stars. She slowly began to close the forever questioning gaze, which brought an end to its cataclysm.
_______________________________________

It started to snow again: winds and frosty tears swirled around him constantly, like little blades attempting to pierce his impenetrable skin. He just sat through it, resting his head against a tree left bare to all eyes; no leaf in sight, only white and the steam from his mouth covered the land around him. He closed his eyes, trying to understand what the girl meant; her last message before he ran away without a second thought. He didn't get much sleep that night, waking early before the sun fully stood over the horizon.

Within misty ice and barren white seas

We tread in bitter cold bringing us to our knees

Bears they once called us, a shadow in the pale night

Yet we stand at starlight with a gleam in delight

The cold preys on many, but we are its child

The winter storms do bite us, but our home is the wild

If I told you our suffering, you'd laugh and you'd stare

For what's one's cry in a drunken man's prayer?

"Oh, what's wrong with me to scare the hearts of the pure? I let myself out on a journey for false hopes. The girl did nothing wrong." He gripped his brow in frustration, closing his eyes as the cold winds continued flying around him and his long golden hair gently placing itself on and off of his face in a fluent motion.

His eyes lit up, however, for it came out from far away: a voice from the village nearly half a mile out, screaming and crying.

He stood up immediately: fist clenched despite what happened there only a few hours prior. Running in the broken and uncomfortable hide shoes he continued wearing, he ran without second thought.

As he arrived to a place he thought he'd never go back to, he was given a dead stare by a group of at least dozen Zerethian!

Being unarmed, he had no chance to fight them, and even with his pride he knew it.

One held a girl in its armor covered grip, staring blankly as it led its sword to him, and there came eleven stampeding towards him.

He beamed his eyes deeply to that same weapon pointing directly at him. It was a sword of the High Guard. In the circumstance, he gripped his fists and firmed his footing.

He rushed to them, their dark steel thin blades tried to cut and stab as he rushed towards that one.

With a single bash the Zerethian's blade he dearly wanted flew into the air as he smashed the foe's face in barehanded. The girl screamed and ran off. He gripped it as it fell and cut down the two that approached him in half.

"Selena! Are you alright?" He spoke loudly and in a hasty rhythm.

Arrows began flying towards the heads of them all. The Zerethian fell beneath him, the one he by then held to its throat was also shot in the head and rested in his grip.

"If those are the High Guard traitors...I'm about to give them a show they'll never forget." He gripped firmly to the dead Zerethian's armored back, as though to shield him.

His blade was ready, but his heart still clung to something he wouldn't soon forget.

Before he could make a second move; twice the number of soldiers gathered, projecting steel tips of spears on all sides against him.

"Bad timing." He maintained his grip to the Zerethian.

One being stood above them all, approaching in a rather slow and dramatic way, almost as though to frighten Theodren into submission.

Theodren gripped harder, scoffing, even with the dead Zerethian's flesh crumbling in his hand.

"Put the sword down, lad." The man spoke, and in such a foreign sounding and deep voice that it nearly pushed his grip off balance.

"Came for me in search of bounty, huh? What am I worth?" Theodren spat back.

"Consider your odds." The man laughed a little and grinned, though the rest of his face was difficult to see, since he had a helmet covering it.

"And that's where you're wrong. Put the spears down or it's gonna get bloody. I'm not a man for the taste of slaughter, but I will if I must."

"Very well." The man gave a disappointed sigh, walking slowly back away from Theodren and signaled with his hands, making Theodren grip even more to his weaponry. "Seize him."

"Coward." Theodren mumbled under his breath quickly after.

Both groups stood in a stalemate, while the girl that was once captured stared in shock as she saw what was in front of her.

You could hear the winds roar with the snow flying through, and steam rising from them all. The soldiers, all shorter than him, looked to be wearing armor of the High Guard, but some seemed to have their own unique sets.

"Now!" One called in a bitter and violent voice, as that of a peasant.

Groups tried swarming in between the wall of spears, but by then Theodren already threw the dead Zerethian and knocked down part of the spear wall, separating them into a mess of armed men.

He punched them, each meeting a near fatal blow, watching all of them fall before him.

By the time their supposed leader turned around again to see what happened, it was just him and Theodren.

"My, and the stories were true. You stand constantly unable to predict your own fate." The man chuckled a bit.

"That's because fate doesn't exist. You'll realize that when I'm through with you." He clenched his fists and cracked his neck.

The man smiled and laughed softly, raising their hands.

"And yet it stands to reason that you are outnumbered."

Theodren was stuck into thoughts as to what he meant, checking around him quickly and to turn back with a fist in his forehead. He fell then and there, the snow hugging his knocked out face around him. The motion went so quick in fact that if he were to ever wake again he wouldn't remember it....
_______________________________________

The winds thundered in a sovereign voice. They purged those deep waters, nearly shredding the curtains of the most royal of locations.

She could hear the footsteps slowly reach the door facing her, with the beautifully designed frame surrounding it. The windows had already been opened, twas the very reason her eyes made a short gaze into the real world once more.

It crept open, and though she intended long ago to escape her fate at the hands of her father, something she failed to understand hinted her way.

"Your body is broken." Her father said, looking into the open window which sprayed air into his long and well kept brunette hair. The sun was slowly rising in the horizon, and even with the harsh storms, he still felt a slight beacon of sanity as he stared.

"Intend to lecture me again? Had you not enough realization I don't want to be here?" Valora pondered his almost predictable introductions from the past.

"I'm trying to help you understand your circumstance." He slowly closed the window and cut the loud voices of soaring breezes to a soft sounding halt.

"I still love you." She softly spoke back.

Aran turned away from her, his grip tightened as he sighed.

"Even the wisest gamblers would bet otherwise." He spoke calmly back as he sat down beside her resting body. "Through your eyes you're my captive, a slave to a cause you could care less about. I know you despise me, I know; but it's for that reason I wanted you back."

She remained silent, trying to ignore him, though in her state couldn't think of anything beyond the present.

"I never pursued you when you left me; you've the heart of your mother, after all. I wanted you to see the world, until you'd come to realize you can't fight forever, and sooner or later you'll end up back to me." Valora would not change her expression, perpetually disinterested, not a smile to ever grace her soft face, but the hint of watering eyes. "I must truly be a monster...to make warriors cry."

He slowly crept close to her; kissing her forehead, then walked out.

She laid in her childhood bed, already drained of an energetic rage to leave. From the very start of her arrival, all she could do was watch the world fall around her; all alone, with a destiny left to rot.

Only moments after Aran departed; tears began falling like a stream of red from her eyes. It wasn't a clear and shiny liquid of hope and fate that poured across her gentle cheeks, but blood, a pain that felt eternal and sought only to stain all that was pure and good in her heart: that's all that remained.